


(maybe you're wrong) but you know it's all right

by janie_tangerine



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Crossdressing, Crossdressing Kink, Explicit Sexual Content, Genderplay, M/M, Originally Posted on Tumblr, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Wishful Thinking, what is even canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-17
Updated: 2016-03-17
Packaged: 2018-05-27 07:47:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,320
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6275770
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/janie_tangerine/pseuds/janie_tangerine
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><i>“Yes, </i>really<i>,” Robb agrees, taking the last step. He brings his arm around Theon’s waist fully and tugs him in once so that they’re flush against each other. The corset does indeed make his waistline feel smaller than usual, and it feels strange, but not the bad kind of. Then he reaches up and unties the knot holding the cloak up against Theon’s neck - it falls to the ground a moment later.</i></p>
<p>
  <i>The dress actually fits him better now than it did the previous two times Theon wore it, though Robb assumes it’s because of the corset and the semblance of a bosom that it creates.</i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>He doesn’t run his fingers there, though, and cups the back of Theon’s head instead, just beneath the braid.</i>
</p>
<p><i>“In fact,” Robb says, “you look quite </i>lovely<i>.”</i></p>
            </blockquote>





	(maybe you're wrong) but you know it's all right

**Author's Note:**

> Hi. So I'm kinda procrastinating and I figured HEY LET'S POST STUFF I SHOULD HAVE REPOSTED AGES AGO. So, ages ago I was taking porn prompts on tumblr and user [natsumi82](http://natsumi82.tumblr.com/) asked for canon-era crossdressing with the two of them. It took me some more ages to comply but I did finish it, but I never reposted it and as stated I feel like procrastinating, so have some ridiculous canon divergence fic where they're in Dorne and want to make the most of it.
> 
> Also, if you wanna read it as a sequel to [this fic here](http://archiveofourown.org/works/648602/chapters/1179571) I won't be the one stopping you. That said: nothing belongs to me, the title is still from _that_ Aerosmith song and now that I exhausted my procrastination tendencies I shall go back to what I should have been doing. *saunters vaguely downwards and leaves the porn here*

He’s _nowhere_ near sure about this, but as Robb not so helpfully pointed out, it’s either now or never. And not just because Dorne is fairly laid back as far as this kind of thing goes, but mostly because other than the Martells no one here has a clue of who they are, and they haven’t left Sunspear in all the time they’ve been here. And considering that they just struck an alliance with them, he doubts they risk anything going into the city.

Fine, the fact that prince Oberyn had come up to him, smirked and told him _a place he should like to visit, and maybe next time he and Theon should discuss their plans for the evening in places where not everyone can hear_ is doing wonders in convincing Robb that this is the one chance they have to actually go through with it.

If Theon doesn’t think back on it, but considering that Robb is sure he’s been wanting to try for a fairly long time - he probably won’t.

He waits near the entrance to the kitchens - he has put on commoner clothes, not Dornish because he really could never pass for one, but someone glancing at him on the street could probably take him for a northern soldier on leave and move on with their life. He’s doesn't stand there on his own for long.

“Are you really sure about this?” Theon hisses, just as soon as Robb feels someone rush up next to him.

Robb turns and - well, _damn_. All that talk that went on in bed about Theon maybe actually pulling off the look if he took care to shave properly wasn’t just talk.

It’s fairly obvious that he’s wearing a corset, or the black dress wouldn’t be falling around his hips in a way that might indeed fool people. He’s also wearing a cloak with the hood raised upwards, and it’s dark, so in theory it’d be enough, but - but it’s not all. Theon did put on the thin silver chain he had bought from a street vendor a few days ago, and his hair is not long enough for a proper braid but he has to have tied it somewhat because it’s not spilling over his shoulders, and he _did_ shave thoroughly from what Robb can see.

Robb’s mouth has gone dry already - and damn, he just hopes the evening goes as planned, because maybe then he could convince Theon that they really can do this more often.

“ _I_ am. But if you aren’t -”

“No, shut up. You said it - either now or never.”

“You _know_ I can’t care less about it?”

“You should,” Theon sighs, raising the hood higher.

“Case is, I don’t. So, should we?”

“Fine. You know the way. What did you even plan?”

“After you. And you shall know in due time,” Robb smirks, holding out his arm. Theon glares at him, but he takes it.

\--

“Robb,” Theon hisses as they walk up the stairs.

“Yes?”

“You _rented out a room in a brothel_ just so we could -”

“Well, it all went fine while we went through the shadow city, yes?”

“It did, but - if anyone finds out - _you_ are -”

“I am quite sure prince Oberyn would be amenable to find an excuse for the both of us. He might have made most of the arrangements.”

“Wait, he _knows_?”

“Well, he came up to me pretty much spelling out that he knew we were involved and he looked plenty willing to help me out.”

“... You are aware that it’s the most stupid thing you could have done?”

“In hindsight, but something tells me that if he wanted to backstab me he wouldn’t use it.”

“And how are you that sure?”

“Because he looked like someone who entirely approved of this little outing. And you’ve _met_ him. Also, he really wants this alliance and I do as well, so I don’t think we should be worrying now. Come on, that’s it.”

Well, Robb thinks as he opens the door, certainly prince Oberyn did put some effort into organizing this for them. The room is spacious, with a large bed, clean sheets, wine on the nightstand and flowers on the windowsills - if it’s not the nicest room in the establishment, it has to come close.

“He certainly has delivered on his promise,” he says approvingly, getting rid of his own cloak. Theon is standing still just behind him, his back to the door, and then he drags down the hood.

And at that Robb remains momentarily speechless, because _hells_ but Theon really didn’t take this lightly. Never mind the dress - he has actually braided his hair, for one. It’s not as long as a noblewoman would have it - the braid barely curves around his neck -, but it definitely contributes to the overall effect. He also indeed shaved thoroughly, and Robb has no clue of where he found the dark shadow that he used on his eyes but it’s working - Robb’s throat is so dry, he has to swallow down twice to actually speak out.

“Robb? You’re looking -”

“Don’t - I wasn’t expecting it, but - it suits you,” he finally blurts, moving closer.

Theon shrugs minutely. “I figured I might as well do it properly for once,” he says, and he goes still as Robb’s hands go to his waist.

“That might have been one of the best ideas you ever had,” Robb says before he can somehow start thinking that he’s not appreciating it fully.

“Wait, really?”

Robb takes another small step closer - he kind of misses the way Theon used to be before he came back from that botched mission on Pyke, because being an insufferable jerk who laughed maybe just a bit too much suited him more than all this second guessing, though he can only understand why he would be like this for now. He just hopes it eventually stops, even if it’s not going to quench the homicidal instincts he sometimes finds himself harboring towards Balon Greyjoy. Good thing that all of his men think it’s because he didn’t agree to the alliance.

“Yes, _really_ ,” he agrees, taking the last step. He brings his arm around Theon’s waist fully and tugs him in once so that they’re flush against each other. The corset does indeed make his waistline feel smaller than usual, and it feels strange, but not the bad kind of. Then he reaches up and unties the knot holding the cloak up against Theon’s neck - it falls to the ground a moment later.

The dress actually fits him better now than it did the previous two times Theon wore it, though Robb assumes it’s because of the corset and the semblance of a bosom that it creates.

He doesn’t run his fingers there, though, and cups the back of Theon’s head instead, just beneath the braid.

“In fact,” Robb says, “you look quite _lovely_.”

He doesn’t miss the way Theon’s breathing hitches as Robb speaks and squeezes the back of his neck.

“Do I? Thank you.” His voice is strangled already, not that Robb doesn’t get the reasons, so he lets it slide.

“Indeed,” he keeps on, his thumb moving towards Theon’s pale, smooth jaw, “and I think I shall show you exactly how much I appreciate it.”

Theon shivers visibly and he can feel it fully, and Robb tightens his hold on his waist at that. Their mouths are inches apart now and Robb considers what to do for a moment. In a normal situation he’d have gone straight for a kiss, and he’d have kept at it for a fairly long while, but now -

He does go for a kiss, but he takes care to just kiss the corner of Theon’s mouth and to keep it brief - if he has to play this part he’s going to do it properly.

“So,” he says, “shall I?”

“Please,” Theon says, his voice still sounding fairly strangled. Robb steers the both of them towards the bed, slowly, until Theon’s with his legs against the mattress and he slowly sits down on it. He’s also breathing in deep - Robb can bet that the corset isn’t helping on that matter.

“Should I get it looser or -”

“No,” Theon cuts him off, his hand grabbing Robb’s wrist. “No. It’s fine. You go ahead.”

Well, if that’s how Theon wants it. “As the lady wishes,” Robb says, and he doesn’t miss the way Theon’s breathing hitches at that. He puts his hands on Theon’s waist, feeling the corset’s curve, and moves the both of them so that Theon’s fully lying down with his head on the pillows and he can take a good look at him as he leans back - well, damn. The sheets are white and stark clean, which makes for a nice contrast with Theon’s black dress and dark hair. Gods, Robb doesn’t know if his throat has ever been so dry in his life. Probably not. Or not that he can recall.

He takes in a deep breath himself and then moves back to take the hems of the dress in between his fingertips, slowly rolling it upwards - not long into it, he moves one hand to Theon’s ankle and keeps it there until the lower part of the dress is resting just above Theon’s knees.

Gods, he’s going to burst long before they get down to business at this rate. He moves a bit forward, his hand going to Theon’s waist, the other just raising up the skirt at once and -

“No smallclothes?”

“I doubt the maids in Sunspear were willing to lend me theirs,” Theon mutters, low enough that had Robb been any farther he wouldn’t have heard it.

“You aren’t playing fair at all, my lady,” Robb croaks, and Theon pretty much arches up against his hand the moment he says it.

Well then.

“Are you ever going to do _something_?” Theon sighs.

“Patience,” Robb smirks back, “I’m not going to rush it now, not when we should make the most out of this specific occasion.”

He looks at the small table next to the bed - huh. As the owner told him before he walked up, there’s a row of tiny bottles full of what looks like oil. He will profusely thank their host later, he decides, before grasping for the first one. He pours it entirely in his palm - he has plenty to choose from after all - and he savors the moment when Theon lets out a moan that people might have heard in the next room over as Robb takes him in hand. Gods, he’s even more turned on than Robb himself is, and he’s plenty turned on for that matter.

“See?” He says as sweetly as he can manage, giving Theon a few, slow strokes. “I am doing something.”

Theon levels a glare at him that entirely reads _like hell you are_ , but he doesn’t say anything. Robb wonders if he’s trying to not break character, and damn it but he wishes they could indulge in this a lot more than they do, considering how it’s faring for now. And they even barely started.

“It certainly pleases me to see that my lady is agreeing with me here,” he adds a moment later, his grip going slightly stronger, and his hand isn’t wet just because of the oil now. Not at all.

“Entirely so.” Theon’s voice cracks at the last word, his hands gripping the sheets tightly - Robb has a feeling he _could_ probably come already if he pushed a bit, and suddenly -

He had plans, but he thinks he can think back on them. He smirks, and then moves forward, putting his free arm behind Theon’s back and bringing the two of them flush against each other, so that his mouth is right next to Theon’s ear.

“What -” Theon starts.

“I think,” Robb says, not stopping his ministrations, “that it would be fairly cruel to leave you hanging.”

“But -”

“Oh, I’m planning to draw this out, don’t worry. No need to hold back. Come on, go ahead.”

Too bad that he can’t see Theon’s face as he does, indeed, stop holding back not long later - Robb feels him sag against his chest just slightly as he spends, Robb’s shirt muffling the noises coming from his mouth, and he moves up his free hand from Theon’s waist to the back of his head - he doesn’t untangle the braid, not yet, but he runs his fingers just below it as he keeps on stroking Theon through it. He doesn’t let his hold loose not even when it’s obvious that it’s over for the moment, and he breathes in as Theon’s hands slowly lose their grip on his coat.

He feels Theon’s frame shake a bit when Robb leans back and presses a kiss to his cheek, before moving back again and pushing him gently back on the covers.

“What -” Theon slurs, his eyes barely open.

“I said I had plans,” Robb says. He stands up and goes to wash his hands in the basin full of water placed on a chair next to the nightstand. “And I’m nowhere near done. _You_ , however, don’t look so tense anymore. How long had you been waiting for it?”

Theon huffs, not even trying to stand up. “Since I left the castle. Satisfied?”

The idea of Theon having been as hard as he was when Robb lifted the skirt up for the entire way is _definitely_ enough to get Robb’s blood rushing downwards. He smiles again and grabs two of the oil bottles before kneeling back up on the bed, in between Theon’s more or less openly spread legs.

“Very,” Robb replies truthfully, getting the skirt up higher. Then he opens up the next bottle and dips his fingers inside it fully - Theon seems to get the idea and spreads his legs a bit wider. Robb ponders teasing some more but then decides that he can’t take that much more teasing, not when his clothes are really constricting right now, and so he slips one finger inside as slow as he can manage. By the time he has two in, he has poured the entirety of the oil bottle on his hand somehow, and Theon’s biting down on the pillow, his short braid half in his face.

Robb can also see that he’ll be hard again soon, but it’s going to be a bit yet - good. When he goes for the third finger, he opens another bottle and pours half of it on his hand again - by now his fingers are filthy and they’ll smell of perfumed oil for a week, maybe, but it’s going to be very worth it.

“Aren’t you taking your sweet time,” Theon groans. “I mean - I’m not - you can, if -”

“Well, yes,” Robb agrees as his fingers slide in and out without meeting much resistance, and he bends them just the right way - Theon arches up the moment he does it. “But if we have to do things _properly_ ,” Robb goes on, his free hand finally moving down to unlace his breeches and open up his shirt a bit, “well, it’s not like you weren’t wet for me already, _my lady_ , but why not making sure of it?”

The groan leaving Theon’s mouth at that is nothing short of obscene, and Robb can see that his cheeks are flushed red, and seven hells but he’ll think about how this shouldn’t be turning him on this much later. Much later.

He moves his hands away and pushes down his breeches and smallclothes, throwing them on the floor, then grabs one of the leftover oil bottles, pours some over his palm and slicks himself up as much as he can handle without coming all over his hand - which might be an entirely possible option if he just _glances_ at Theon right now.

So he doesn’t until he’s done, and when he is, he wipes his hands on his shirt and then grabs Theon by the hips and repositions the both of them so that Robb is on the bottom with his back against the headboard and Theon has his legs around Robb’s thighs, the skirt covering Robb’s chest.

“So,” Robb says, his hands going to Theon’s hips again, feeling the curve the corset has shaped them into, “may I -”

“ _Yes_ ,” Theon says, the sound coming out strangled, and Robb lifts the skirt up just enough to see what they’re doing. When Theon moves downwards and slides into the right position, Robb groans as loud as Theon had before - damn, he’s so hard it aches by now, and he slides inside fairly smoothly all things considered. Gods, he can _feel_ all that oil making it easier, and he knows Theon’s thighs are stained with it, and good thing Theon’s going slow or he wouldn’t really be able to hold on that much longer. He moves one of his hands up to Theon’s chest, feeling the small curve the corset makes where the breasts should have been, his thumb running at the bottom of it - Theon breathes out and just - just _goes all the way down_ , and Robb drags him closer. Right now they’re flushed against each other again, Theon’s cheeks are flushed and his mouth is slightly parted - his lips are almost the color of ripe strawberries and Robb just moves forward and kisses him open-mouthed while the hand he doesn’t have around Theon’s waist moves up to his hair and undoes the braid. It falls down in a long, dark wave, and it’s so soft to the touch Robb can’t help carding through it and smoothing it out as his tongue finds Theon’s, and they’re both breathing in heavily when they part.

“It took me an hour to braid that,” Theon breathes out, not sounding too disappointed about it. “You better make that worth it.”

Robb grabs a fistful of hair in between his finger and pulls just a bit - Theon’s hands dig even harder along his back.

“Like that?” He asks, and then thrusts upwards.

“Yes,” Theon replies, his voice sounding completely strangled and his mouth finding Robb’s a moment later, his hips going with Robb’s motions, and - what’s killing Robb here is that he can feel against his stomach that he’s half-hard already, but nowhere near as much as he was before and he’s still responsive enough that he moans into Robb’s mouth every time he pulls at his hair just a bit.

Gods, if he doesn’t spend when Robb does, later he might just take him in his mouth and be done with it, and he might even do that with the skirt over his head - if it doesn’t happen today, maybe next time. Even later, he’ll clean the both of them up and he’ll pretend not to listen when Theon will say he doesn’t need help re-doing the braid, and he’ll do that himself just because he really does like it regardless of what Theon likes to assume, and if there’s any oil left and if they don’t sleep too much he will make sure to make use of the bed in the morning. Even later than that, he will profusely thank Oberyn Martell for arranging it.

But for now - for now he looks at Theon’s face as Robb keeps on thrusting inside him, at how his mouth is slightly parted and how he doesn’t have that dark look on his face that no one can seem to lift off since he came back from the islands, and he can entirely feel how hot his blood is burning right now at the sight of it. Maybe one day he’ll make Theon understand neither of them should feel ashamed about it. For now, he stops worrying about what happens later as he he grips harder at Theon’s waist and he lets go, and he thinks that yes, _yes_ , there’s nothing he doesn’t love about this. Nothing at all.

 

End.


End file.
